


Lonely Night

by vitriolicvagrant



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22745782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vitriolicvagrant/pseuds/vitriolicvagrant
Summary: Alone in his camp, Wilson finds himself in a humiliating situation.
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 137





	Lonely Night

Wilson trapsed back through the forest to his shoreline camp, brandishing his newly sharpened spear and tattered backpack. Just having finished gathering and slaughtering some entrapped rabbits, and warily outmaneuvering a spiderden in amongst a thick outcrop of lumpy evergreens, the gentleman scientist found himself quite tired and decided to retire for the night.  
The evening had only just taken hold over the land, and the sun still shone over the tops of Wilson’s modest hay walls, though lower than it had been this time yesterday, suggesting a fast approaching winter season. 

Somewhat boredly, Wilson sat roasting his rabbits on an open bonfire, as well as some pickings of berries he’d collected during his outing. His camp was on a savannah nearby a forest, which he always found to be full to the brim with rapidly growing and generously scattered berry bushes. Sure, it wasn’t a whole lot of sustenance, but it was pretty much a constant food source, and for that Wilson was grateful. 

It would be too risky to go out for more intrepid adventuring, so he tended to his camp, refining grass and stone, building upon some weaker portions of his defenses and allowed his mind to wander. He was comfortable in his routine. Well… maybe comfortable was a stretch, but the scientist had found himself a routine that kept his resources constant, hunger mostly satiated, and sanity on the high end. 

As he mindlessly busied himself around camp and just about finished roasting his kills, the subject of his thoughts drifted to something slightly more embarrassing.

Now, during his life as a full time scientist in his old town, Wilson may have been a gentleman but he was no prude. He’d had experience in that field with a fair share of partners. Most female, though he hadn’t been a stranger to escapades with the same sex.

However, he had only engaged in intercourse after a long period of being in a relationship and building trust. Sex to wilson was little more than a formality, just something that was normal for couples to do. Of course it was enjoyable, but he always figured there were more important things to do, like scientific experiments and inventing. 

Knowing it was generally healthy for the prostate to masturbate, Wilson did so when he absolutely had to, and when he couldn’t sleep off an erection. His sessions were modest, quick, he busied his mind with images of anatomy, and was quite honestly too embarrassed with himself to risk enjoyment out of it. Sure, Wilson Higgsbury was no prude, but his reticence to enjoy sex was becoming something of a complication.

Because, as of late, Wilson wasn’t quite sure why he found himself with a raging hard-on several times a day.

Perhaps it was because of his deprivation of human contact, or that it had just been so damn long since he’d slept with someone, but to his dismay, the scientist realized with each passing day he was becoming more and more aroused in his excess amounts of time on his solitary island. The constant need annoyed and flustered him, and clouding his mind with flashing images of sex he dealt with the predicament efficiently and not without humiliation alone in his camp, when he couldn’t simply sleep off the excitement.

He stifled orgasms for the hasty release so he could clean up and get back to, you know, surviving. Of course, the constant threat that the omnipresent deity Maxwell was monitoring his island and could phase through dimensions any time he pleased and peek in on the stranded man did nothing to help with his utter embarrassment at the degrading chore. 

Tonight was no exception. To his distress, Wilson felt an all-too-familiar tightening in his pants shock him out of his daydreaming. Wilson furrowed his brow and swallowed hard. He’d had enough of living in embarrassment of his own arousal.

He reasoned that if he kept making quick work of his erections they would return more frequently and with more persistence. Sitting down on his fur roll after placing one more precautionary log on his steadily burning flame, Wilson gripped the edge of his faux bed and mentally prepared himself for the task at hand (no pun intended), wary of his growing extremity fighting to be free of his trousers. 

Through slow but shaky breaths, Wilson lightly stroked the length of his erection through the fabric of his pants, slender fingers delicately brushing the stiffness, curling his toes and feeling warmth spread through his face and rise from the pit of his stomach. He removed his red vest and gingerly halfway unbuttoned the shirt underneath. Though no one was around to see, the modesty accustomed man felt dreadfully embarrassed exposing his thin frame. 

Collar bones and ribs jutted out slightly from pale skin from undereating, but Wilson tried to ignore this as he reached one tentative hand up to encircle his nipple. The heat in his gut grew tighter, and he fought the urge to give up in a flurry of self-consciousness and force himself to sleep.

Expelling a rough breath of determination, Wilson diverted his attention back toward the aching bulge in his pants. He undid the button on his black corduroy pants and freed the zip. Pulling the trousers down midway on his thighs and shakily doing the same to cotton briefs, Wilson released his neglected hard-on. It stood rock hard and flushed, and though Wilson couldn’t see his face he was certain it had assumed a glow of deep crimson.

Leaning forward over himself and with a sense of utter degradation, he spat into his hand and gently gripped the sizable member. Leaning back on his other hand, he slowly encircled the tip of his cock and motioned down its length in one delicate pump.  
A tingle spread from his stomach through his legs, chest and head and with a few more sensual strokes, and he thumbed at the precum pooling from the slit into his fingers. The fire in his loins raged as he pleasured himself and picked the momentum up- slightly- pumping a little faster and a little harder. Usually, he’d be long finished by now, cleaned up and fast asleep. But tonight, Wilson was throwing efficiency to the wind and determined to orgasm fully and completely to finally satiate his recurring lust.

He eased himself back on his fur roll, instinctually spreading his legs a little wider, once again playing at his nipple with the free hand. Breath shallowing, Wilson cast away images of bodies and skin. He cleared his mind of all but the sensations he was giving himself. Riding out and relishing in every knot and tingle and jerk. The scientist was past the point of humiliation.

Panting louder, Wilsons legs parted further, and his slender hand now pistoned his throbbing erection up and down, with mercilessly swift velocity. Past the point of no return. He told himself. Ride it out, Wilson… His mind sparked with electricity as pangs of pleasure shot through his whole body. Pants became low, involuntary moans. His thoughts focused slowly on his slick and pumping member, twitching thighs and the raging fire in his stomach as he enjoyed and felt himself wholly and completely.  
Ah.. fuck… he reached the other hand to grip the raging erection above the other, and, legs fully parted and back arched slightly, pumped harder and faster with both hands in unison down the length of his cock. Wilson was now moaning nothing short of yelling, and the burning hotness in his stomach and balls gave away that release was nearby. Pawing at the head of his cock with the left hand and continuing the pistoning strokes with his right, Wilson’s found his body jerking inwards and shaking more and more violently. With one swift and hard stroke he arched his back and parted his legs fully, throwing his head back into a rough yell as an intense and quaking orgasm rocked his very being and hot cum shot from the tip of his swollen cock in one rope and flowed down the shaft like a volcano. 

Breathless, Wilson collapsed back onto the fur roll and lay, exposed, panting, and covered in his own semen. His head spun, he felt like he was flying, and he was so totally embarrassed, but he couldn’t help a smile from creeping across his flushed face. 

Suddenly, a slow clap jolted Wilson from his post-orgasm bliss and he shot upright, looking about wildly. A long and leering body stepped forward out of seemingly thin air into Wilson’s camp, a sadistic smile painted on his harsh face. Maxwell.

“Now THAT was a performance!”

Wilson’s face assumed a deep blush as he struggled back into his clothes and stuttered, furious and flustered at the transdimensional demon poised in front of him. “Where did you.. When did… did you… were you watching the whole time?” Wilson’s embarrassment turned into a flustered rage.  
“Sure, pal.” The demon answered simply, the maniacal grin never faltering. “I was wondering when you were gonna give me a show like that. What with all these five minute jerk-offs I was starting to believe it would never come!”

Wilson sat dumbfounded, still red faced. “What do you mean?”

The man withdrew a red berry from an inside pocket in his pinstripe suit, and tossed it to Wilson, who jumped and instinctively caught and examined the fruit. “So? It’s a berry. I eat these all the time.”

Maxwell grinned bigger and his beady eyes shone. “Exactly. Why do you think you’ve been so, you know, horny all the time? It’s pretty entertaining seeing you frolic around trying to gather and mine and build sure, but sometimes, a man craves a little more.

Wilson’s rage returned and he yelled at the omnipresent being who smiled cockily before him. “You- you humiliated me like this on purpose? It wasn’t enough seeing me starve and fight for my life from these eldritch horrors, you have to degrade me like this? You are such a sick bastard.”

Maxwell’s grin deepened to a frown. “Careful, pal. This is my world. I am your god. I can do worse things than make you touch yourself.”

Wilson looked away.

“You know, pal, you really should feel honored. I could have done this to any of the others, but,” Maxwell flashed one more menacing grin at the disheveled young man before him, “they’re just not as cute as you.”

In a blink, Maxwell was gone, and Wilson sat, once more, alone and his head pounding with the threat of a migraine. He was still ripe with humiliation and felt extremely violated. What a bastard! Making me into his own personal perverted voyeur. And what did he mean by others? Ah, I shouldn’t plague my thoughts with the preoccupations of a sadistic god. 

Wilson shamefully cleaned up his mess and swore never to expose himself like he had done tonight, while he was still a prisoner in this unrelenting world. He sighed deeply and curled into his fur. He thought once more of Maxwell watching his performance as he masturbated in his camp like a slut, and a hint of blush spread through his pale face, and the hint of a smirk danced on the corner of his mouth.


End file.
